


Alternate Relaxation Techniques

by writemydreams



Series: SladeRobin Week 2017 [5]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Case Fic, Consent, DCU Mini Bang 2018, Discowing, Finally, Jason Todd is Robin, M/M, SladeRobin Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 21:36:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16354715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writemydreams/pseuds/writemydreams
Summary: It's been a week since Slade interrupted his stakeout on the Sirens, fought him, and gave him a handjob. Dick tries not to dwell on it, focusing on dismantling the Sirens' drug and sex trafficking operations so he can show Bruce how capable he is. He's forced to admit there is some attraction when Slade crosses his path again at a Siren cocaine production facility.





	Alternate Relaxation Techniques

**Author's Note:**

> I combined my DCU Mini Big Bang entry with the long overdue Day 5 "Predator" prompt of SladeRobin Week 2017. I started this fic roughly a year ago, got massively stuck, set it aside, and focused on other projects. I always wanted to finish it so I decided this would be the perfect entry.
> 
> This is a sequel to my Day 1 "Daddy Issues" entry called "A Helping Hand" - it isn't necessary to read this first, but it gives some background to the case and where things stand between Dick and Slade.
> 
> I was paired with the lovely artist, crystalwitcher, who posted art to her tumblr. Check it out! https://crystalwitcher.tumblr.com/post/179234547250/art-for-alternate-relaxation-techniques-story-by

In the week since his encounter with Slade, Dick continued to battle the Sirens. They named their gang after the wrong monster. Hydra would’ve been better. For every drug dealer or sex trafficker he caught, another sprang up. The Sirens wouldn’t be able to keep this up forever. Eventually, they’d run out of members. Then Dick would complete his goal of dismantling the gang by himself. He’d prove to everyone how he’d emerged from Batman’s shadow and become his own hero. Bruce would regret firing him!

It would happen. Soon. Right now, Dick needed to focus on the present. He smiled as he watched Officer Kate Griffin and her partner, Officer James O’Leary, load the last three cocaine dealers into the van. One more drug facility down. How many were left?

The wild-eyed woman running the operation glared at him. “You’ll pay for this, Nightwing! Mess with the Sirens and suffer! You—!”

Griffin slammed the door shut, cutting off her complaint. “That’s enough.” 

O’Leary grinned at Dick. “Thanks, Nightwing. You’ve done so much to bring down these damn Sirens. If you keep this up, the gang will be out of Gotham by the end of the month.”

Dick returned the smile. “I’m glad to help.” Ironically, he had Slade to thank for some of his success. If he hadn’t arrived the night of Dick’s laundromat stakeout, Max Gold would never have panicked. He wouldn’t have ratted out the Sirens in exchange for protection. Dick refused to dwell on how else Slade had _assisted_ him that night. “We’ll get the rest of them.”

Griffin nodded. “You know, Nightwing, you’d make a good member of the force if you ever ditch the tights. GCPD could use a man with your skillset.” 

O’Leary smirked at her. “Kate, you’d be crushed if he took off the tights.”

She punched his arm, cheeks turning as red as her hair. “Hush.”

Dick chuckled. “Thank you. I’ll consider that as a potential career. Would you like a rooftop escort back to the precinct?”

O’Leary waved him off. “We’ve got it, Nightwing. Go take out some more scumbags. Fill up the cells.” 

Dick saluted him. “Will do.” He pulled out his grapple and took to the roofs. He’d sustained a knife wound and several blows during his fight with the Sirens. Dick needed to bandage his arm and check his sore ribs before further crime fighting. He chose a spot near a water tower to look himself over. The slash was his only concern. Everything else would merely bruise. Ribs included. 

He finished tying off the bandage just as the Bat Signal lit up Gotham’s gloomy skies. Great. Bruce and Jason would be out soon. Dick didn’t want to encounter either of them tonight. Dick knew he shouldn’t be upset with Jason, that he was a victim of Gotham’s ugliness just like Dick. Bruce was the insensitive ass. He gave Jason the Robin mantle, even though he knew Mary Grayson always called Dick her little robin. Bruce knew how much being Robin meant to him. And still, he felt like he had the right to put another boy in Dick’s costume.

“Help, someone help me!” A woman screamed. 

Dick’s anger faded. This woman needed Nightwing to swoop in and save her. Not brood over seeing the Bat Signal. He raised his middle finger to it before taking off. Dick crouched down on the roof. Down on 3rd Street, a woman in a purple miniskirt and black crop top had been cornered by two men. One was overweight and wearing a suit. The other was a muscle-bound thug in ripped jeans and a tank top. 

“Shut up, Rosa!” The fat man snapped when she screamed again. “No one’s going to save a whore like you. Rex, grab her. Take her back to the office.”

“Don’t touch me!” Rosa backed away.

Dick launched into action when Rex reached for her. He landed on the street between the two. Dick kicked Rex in the leg. Rex’s leg buckled. A second kick sent him tumbling to the ground with a pained groan. Dick rounded on the fat man next. He fisted his hand in his blazer and marched him back, slamming him into the wall. “Explain,” he ordered. “What the hell is going on?”

The fat man’s face reddened. “It’s none of your concern, Nightwing. Merely a dispute between myself and my employee.”

“Your slave,” Rosa snarled. “He’s no pimp. He’s a monster! A slaver!”

Dick hated pimps and sex traffickers. “You can tell the GCPD how you abuse the women who work for you.” He plucked a pair of handcuffs from his belt. They closed around the man’s wrists with a satisfying click. Dick drove his knee into the man’s groin, sending him down with a pitiful whimper. Dick turned just as Rex swung a punch at his head. Dick blocked the blow. He took him down again, cuffing him for the GCPD. “There. You’re safe now, Rosa.”

Tears filled her eyes. “T-Thank you, Nightwing, but I won’t be safe for long. Frank will kill me for this humiliation.” 

Dick laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “That’s not going to happen. What happened to you, Rosa? Why did you try to run from them?”

Rosa sniffed. “They’re animals. Frank,” she glared at the fat man, “used to run the operation. The Sirens took over four months ago. All the girls have to trade in sex _and_ drugs now. Worse, Frank gives girls to top ranking Sirens whenever they want company. If a man doesn’t pay for sex, the woman doesn’t get paid. We can’t survive if we aren’t getting money!”

Dick sucked in a breath. No wonder Rosa compared this to slavery. “Rosa, I’ve been fighting the Sirens for the last few weeks. I’m going to bring them down. Drive them out of Gotham. Will you help me? You have knowledge. I know people who can protect you.” 

Rosa bit her lip. “If I talk, will you help the other girls? Keep them safe?”

“I promise,” Dick vowed. 

Rosa reached for his hand. He took it, letting her lace their fingers together. She clearly needed a hand to hold. “Okay. I’ll help you.”

She told him everything she knew. 

* * *

Slade’s phone lit up with a message. He checked it to see who’d contacted him. Another request for Deathstroke’s services. What perfect timing. He’d just completed a contract and needed a new one.

**Anonymous: Deathstroke. I am Annette, the head of the Sirens. Nightwing has been a thorn in my side. I want him dead.**

**Deathstroke: How much?**

**Annette: 2 million.**

**Deathstroke: Too low.**

**Annette: You’ll receive an additional 2 million if he’s dead by dawn. Nightwing needs to be eliminated.**

Slade considered the offer. If he killed Grayson, Batman and the rest of the caped community would be on the warpath. Grayson was beloved by the heroes. There was also the matter of last week to consider. Getting the kid to drop his guard and give in to desire had been enjoyable. Slade wanted to get Grayson in bed. Not put him in the morgue.

Now, he had to decide if Grayson was worth passing up $4 million for. 

* * *

Dick zip-tied the last dealer to the table. This was the final drug production facility from Rosa’s list. Like Max Gold, she was an invaluable informant. With drugs eliminated from the Sirens’ income, they could only profit from prostitution and weapons trafficking now. That wouldn’t last long. Dick was working hard to dismantle the rest of the operation.

Dick spun around when he sensed a presence behind him. Slade. He stepped back into a defensive stance. “Slade. Were you hired to kill these people too?” Eight dealers, three guards, and a Siren official were tied up and in various states of consciousness.

“No.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

Slade took a step closer. “I came for you, pretty bird.”

Dick scowled. “Did the Sirens hire you to kill me? So much for what you said last week. Obviously you haven’t changed.”

“I’ve been promised $4 million if you’re dead by dawn.” The single eye slit in Slade’s helmet seemed to consider him. “However, the Sirens are on their way out of Gotham. Thanks to you. I doubt they have the capital to afford my services.”

Dick didn’t relax. “What do you want, Slade?”

“Just fuck already,” a guard with a split lip grunted. The complaint turned into a squeal when Dick turned and kicked him. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. Now was not the time to recall Slade’s fist around his cock. The strength against his back.

“Not a bad idea.” Slade surveyed the bound Sirens then turned away. “Take care of this mess then come to the water treatment plant by the river.”

“Why, so I can be an easier target?”

“I told you, kid. I’m not interested in killing you. The Sirens don’t have the money, and I don’t care to have Daddy Bat and the capes out for blood. Now stop arguing. Or don’t you want to hear the message I have?”

“Is it a _big_ message, Nightwing?” A dealer sniggered.

Dick refused to acknowledge the comment. “How about we take this outside and you tell me? I’m not going across town to have a private meeting with you.” 

Slade glanced back. “This meeting is on my terms. You’re a detective, Nightwing. You won’t let an opportunity like this slide. Come to the plant and talk. Or stay here, solve the case yourself. Your choice.” He left without waiting for Dick’s answer.

Dick frowned after him. It wasn’t in Slade’s nature to be so… charitable. He was only out for himself. So why was he being open with Dick? Because both of them had dropped their guard last week and admitted their desires? Shared fantasies? What would happen if Dick met him at the water treatment plant? There was only one way to find out. 

Shaking his head, he called GCPD. “Nightwing here. I took down the Sirens’ final cocaine production facility. I have nine Sirens tied up and waiting to be arrested. I don’t have time to interrogate them right now. See if you can get them to talk about Siren plans.”

“We can talk about Nightwing’s booty call!” A dealer with a mustache of blood from his broken nose sneered at Dick.

The officer was too professional to react to the taunt. “Good. Will you be present to oversee the arrest?”

“No. I have somewhere else to be. Nightwing out.” Dick hung up and exited the building. None of the Sirens had the skill or level of consciousness to free themselves before GCPD arrived. With them taken care of, it was time to handle Slade. See what the hell he wanted. To talk about the Sirens? A repeat of last time? No fucking way. Dick had been emotionally compromised then. He wouldn’t let Slade touch him intimately again. 

Slade, as promised, waited for him on the roof. “Thought you’d chickened out,” he said when Dick joined him.

Dick folded his arms. “I didn’t. You said you have a message about the Sirens. I’m here now. So talk to me.”

Slade removed his helmet to fix Dick with his single eye. “Soon after the Sirens expressed their interest in my services, I received a message from another client. The same one who hired me to take out those heroin dealers and your rat friend last week. This person is as eager as you are to see the Sirens gone.”

Dick waited to see if Slade would elaborate. Unsurprisingly, he didn't. “Are you going to give me a name or just inform me of an obvious gang squabble?” 

“That depends.”

“On what?” Dick snapped, starting to get irritated with Slade’s evasion. “You want me to grovel for information? Ask you to team up with me? That’ll never happen. I won’t work with a contract killer.”

“You had no qualms about the handjob I gave you.”

Dick flushed. “Slade! That was a mistake.” 

“Was it? You enjoyed yourself. You also liked the idea of being bent over my car or getting fucked with your legs over my shoulders.”

Coming here was a mistake. Dick should’ve stayed with the Sirens until the GCPD arrived. “It sounded appealing _at the time_. You caught me in a vulnerable state. I was… emotionally compromised.” 

“Physically too.”

“I'm eighteen,” Dick snapped. “Teenagers don’t have perfect control over their bodies!”

“Admit you enjoyed my touch, Grayson.” Slade stepped closer. “I know you’re working the Siren case to make a statement to the Bat. Just picture how livid he’d be if he found out you were with me.”

Dick gaped at Slade, positive his face was now the color of a ripe tomato. Delivering a message had been a bullshit excuse. Slade just wanted to proposition him! “No!”

Slade shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He turned to leave the rooftop then paused. “Look up.”

Dick’s gaze turned skywards to see the Bat Signal. “So? It’s been on for the last hour. You’re delusional if you think I’ll drop my pants for you because Batman is out.”

“You aren’t wearing pants.”

Dick gritted his teeth. “You’ve wasted enough of my time. I’m going back to patrol now. I don’t want to see you in Gotham again after tonight.”

“You’d have to chase me out, kid. I have business.”

“Killing?”

Slade smirked at him. “Watching you and your dad get into it.” He donned his helmet again. “You’re pretty when you’re on the warpath. Still a shame about your suit. You’d fit in well at a 70s party.” 

“So you’ve said.” Was Slade deliberately riling him up to get the sex he wanted? No, Slade wasn’t that despicable. He didn’t touch Dick intimately until he had his consent. He hadn’t laid a finger on Dick tonight. He’d propositioned him, yes, but he wasn’t trying to make Dick do anything. Dick glanced up at the Bat Signal then back to Slade. He couldn’t believe he was actually considering agreeing. Ridiculous as it was. He shouldn’t even _think_ about it. 

And yet, he was. “ _If_ I sleep with you,” Dick stressed the word, “I expect to be treated well. No rooftop fucks, alley sex, or being bent over a car. Also I want information on the Sirens. You want me. I want the Sirens out of Gotham.” 

“That can be arranged. You want a proper bed?”

Dick folded his arms. “That depends. Are you in a shithole motel with bedbugs and cockroaches for company?” 

Slade snorted. “No. I have a safe house.”

Dick pointed an accusing finger at Slade. “You better not be lying to me.”

“Or what?”

“I’ll change my mind.”

Slade reached for Dick and grasped his hip, drawing him close. “Is that a yes, Grayson?”

Dick closed his eyes. He was so going to regret this later. “Yes,” he sighed. “It is.”

“You won’t be disappointed.”

Dick wasn’t surprised when Slade’s hand left his hip to grab his ass. “Don’t make me regret this, Wilson.” He pushed Slade back. “Lead the way.” He followed Slade to a safehouse near the harbor, wondering all the while if he’d lost his mind for agreeing. 

Dick gave the building a suspicious look. It looked like an ordinary three-story apartment. “How long have you had this safehouse?” Its existence was news to Dick. How had Slade purchased property without Dick or Bruce finding out?” 

“Long enough.” Slade punched in the code for his security system. The door clicked open. He held it for Dick. “After you.”

Irritating as the non-answer was, it didn’t stop Dick from entering the house. He half expected Slade’s décor to consist of suits of armor or racks of weapons. Pictures of money. Instead, the interior was Spartan. The entryway led into a sparse living room – couch, coffee table, TV, a worn armchair. No photos or decorations on the walls. Not a single personal touch.

Dick jumped when the door clicked shut behind him. It sounded too final for his liking. He glanced up when Slade grasped his hip again, turning him to face him. Dick reached up to remove Slade’s helmet so he could see his face. 

Slade brushed his fingers over the edge of Dick’s mask. “I can hear you second guessing yourself. If you want to leave, go. I won’t stop you.”

Dick took a breath. “Take off your armor and show me why I should stay.” He wouldn’t listen to the logical side of his brain urging him not to be a horny teenager. 

Slade smirked. “Are you going to watch or help?”

Dick answered by unbuckling the gun bandoliers across Slade’s muscular chest. He set those aside, working on the catches of the chest armor next. Slade assisted whenever Dick fumbled over how to remove a piece of armor. It didn’t take long to get Slade down to the tight, black suit that left nothing to the imagination. Dick swallowed as he ran his hands over muscular biceps. He always knew Slade was strong. Now he could see just how powerful he was. It was arousing and a little frightening. Strength had always appealed to him. Kori’s ability to manhandle him with ease had been a kink he never knew he had until they dated. “How much of this is you and how much is the serum?”

Slade’s hands dropped to his ass. “About 80% me. I prized strength and physical prowess before I got the serum.” He squeezed Dick’s ass. “Best part of this suit.”

Dick surged up on tiptoe to kiss him. Talk would only make him question what he was doing and who with. The kiss turned hungrier as his fingers threaded into Slade’s white hair. So different from the redheads he was always drawn to. 

Slade broke the kiss. “Now to get you out of this awful suit.” He squeezed Dick’s ass again then ran his hands up his back.

Dick huffed. “You can hardly judge my fashion choices. You wear orange panties over your armor.”

Slade shook his head. “You’re the one who ran around in scaled panties and pixie boots for nine years. Your fashion sense didn’t improve any with this Discowing suit.” He tugged the high collar. “I do like the V though.” He released the collar to run his fingers down Dick’s exposed skin. He shivered, swallowing in anticipation when Slade’s hand moved over the front of the suit to cup his cock. He moaned when Slade squeezed. “Strip for me, boy.”

Dick started with his mask. There was no point in anonymity. They knew who the other was. Why hide his face? He pulled down the zipper at the back of the suit and shrugged out of the sleeves. Slade watched hungrily. Dick stripped down to his briefs, relieved he hadn’t worn Superman underwear again. Slade would’ve mocked him endlessly.

Slade smirked. “I’m surprised you aren’t wearing hero underwear.”

Dick snorted. “Sorry to disappoint you.” He kissed Slade again, guiding his hands back down to his ass. He shouldn’t, but he was liking how those big hands felt on him. Dick moved his hands up Slade’s chest and shoulders to find the suit’s zipper. He tugged it down Slade’s back while the kiss grew more heated. Slade took his hands off Dick’s ass to remove the suit and their underwear. Dick’s nerves returned when he saw the size of Slade’s hardening cock. He was no stranger to being on the receiving end of sex. This would be the first time he’d had a partner who could fill him so thoroughly.

“Like what you see?”

Dick raised a challenging eyebrow. “Depends. Do you know how to use it?”

“You’re mouthy tonight.” Slade grasped his chin, swiping his thumb over Dick’s lips. “I know a good way to shut you up.”

Dick playfully licked his thumb. “I'm not sucking you off. Are you going to fuck me or are you all talk?”

Slade steered him towards the couch. “Your choice, kid. Bent over the arm or lying on your back with your legs over my shoulders?” His hand closed around Dick’s cock to stroke him, making his breath catch. He shivered when Slade squeezed.

“S-Slade,” Dick groaned. “Legs.” Flexible sex was the best. He felt leather against the back of his thighs as Slade pushed him against the couch then down onto the cushions. Slade moved between Dick’s spread legs to kiss him. The kiss was as exploratory as the hands running over his body. Dick hooked one leg over Slade’s shoulder, shivering when Slade pinched a nipple. 

The touch of a slick finger to his entrance made him jolt. How had Slade gotten lube so quickly? “Done this before?”

“Yes,” Dick replied. 

“With your alien girl or the fast kid?”

Dick glared up at him. “I am _not_ discussing this. I thought we were fucking?”

Slade shut him up with another kiss as he pushed the finger inside him. Dick’s breath caught at the sensation. It’d been a while since he’d done this. Thankfully, Slade wasn’t in a rush. He took his time to open Dick up, only inserting another finger when he thought Dick was ready. Once he had four inside him, Slade angled his wrist to press his fingers against his prostate. Dick moaned loudly. “Always knew you’d look pretty getting fucked.” 

Dick imagined he looked like a wreck. “S-Slade,” he groaned. It was difficult to get words out with Slade pushing insistent fingers into his prostate. He squirmed on the couch as his cock rubbed against the planes of Slade’s stomach. He tipped his head back with another groan of pleasure. Slade took advantage of his bared skin to plant bites and kisses down his neck while he continued to massage Dick’s prostate. “F-Fuck. Need… mm… more.” 

Slade pulled off his neck to mouth at the inside of Dick’s thigh. “So beautiful moaning my name.” He bit down hard on a patch of skin, sucking a livid hickey onto it. No exercise shorts until that went away. 

“C-Come on, Slade. I’m ready.” 

“You sure?”

Dick felt like he’d explode if he got any harder. “Yes!”

Slade eased his fingers out of him. The sudden emptiness had him pressing Slade closer with the leg over his shoulder. “Be patient.” Slade patted his thigh. This time, Dick saw him take a condom packet out from the side of the couch. Dick watched him roll the condom on and slick himself up. Now to see if he could handle a lover of Slade’s size. Slade grasped Dick’s hip and thrust inside him. He wasn’t forceful, but he didn’t treat Dick like he was made of glass either. Slade watched his expressions for signs of discomfort as he eased further inside him. Once he was completely inside Dick, he stilled to let him adjust. Dick closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. No wonder Slade used four fingers to open him up. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Dick said breathily. “Just… need a moment.” 

Slade reached between them to give Dick’s cock a few strokes. That was all the distraction he needed. Dick gripped the couch cushions. “Okay,” he gasped. “R-Ready.” 

Slade pulled out of him. He grasped Dick’s leg below the knee and hooked it over his shoulder, bending Dick almost in half as he thrust back inside him. Leather creaked beneath his skin as Slade rocked him against the cushions. Dick moaned loudly. Slade’s thrusts were slow and deep. Each punctuated by a bite or kiss to his thighs. Thankfully the Nightwing suit covered his legs. Otherwise he’d have to cover up or explain the mess of hickeys dotting his skin. 

“S-Slade… mm… kiss me,” Dick gasped. He fisted his hand in Slade’s hair and yanked him off his thigh so they could kiss again. He moaned into it, Slade taking advantage to push his tongue into his mouth and tangle with Dick’s as he thrust back inside him. 

A breathless Dick broke the kiss so he could gasp in oxygen. “Fuck,” he hissed. He rolled his hips up to meet Slade’s next thrust. The pace was growing faster as Dick became more comfortable. “Slade!” He sounded truly wanton when the next thrust went straight into his prostate. He pressed his head back into the cushion. “More,” he gasped.

Slade nipped his neck. “Sing for me, pretty bird.” He bit down with more force as he rocked against his prostate. Pulling out, he caught a nipple and pinched hard. Dick shivered under him. That felt too good. He squeezed Slade tighter with his thighs and grasped his arms to ground himself. “Louder.” Slade pinched and tugged the other nipple.

“S-Slade!” Dick cried. All he could do was moan and arch up into each thrust. Skin scraped against leather, the force of Slade’s thrusts pushing him up the cushions and against the arm. He wanted to have that strength pounding him into a wall and bent over the couch. 

Slade was significantly quieter than he was. His breaths came in harsh pants and soft moans as he continued to pound into Dick. He gave each nipple one final pinch before sliding his hand down Dick’s chest. “So hard, Grayson.” He wrapped his fingers around Dick’s cock and began to stroke him in time with his thrusts. 

Dick trembled when Slade bit down hard on his thigh. He could feel himself fading and knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He clenched around Slade, pleased when that pulled a louder sound of pleasure from him. “Slade,” he breathed. 

His tremors increased as he felt his orgasm begin to build. Dick gripped Slade’s biceps tightly, nails digging crescents into his skin as he rocked along with him. A few more thrusts and pumps of his cock had him coming hard between them with one final cry. Slade grunted as Dick clamped down around him. He released his cock to grasp his hip again. Slade pulled out and thrust in hard, nails digging into Dick’s hip as he too found his release. 

After the orgasm euphoria faded, Dick slowly drew his legs off of Slade’s shoulders so he could stretch them out on the couch. He was still breathing heavily as was Slade. “Sirens,” he said, gazing up at Slade. “You… impressed me. If you want more, you have to talk first.”

Slade eased out of him. “Deal.” He took the time to clean both of them up and discard the condom. He took a seat on the couch again, not bothering to reach for clothing or cover himself. Dick sat up slowly. Slade was as pleased as the cat who’d caught the canary while Dick felt awkward. Insecure. Should he cover himself? Get his suit? Or would Slade laugh at him for doing so?

Fuck. Dick didn’t know what to do after sleeping with the enemy. Bruce was the expert on that. Not him. Before, Dick’s lovers were friends and teammates. He knew what to do with them. Not with Slade. 

“You’re blushing.” 

“Maybe my skin is just flushed from sex,” Dick retorted. 

Slade smirked at him. “Don’t be cute, Grayson.” He patted his bare thigh. “I’m a man of my word so I’ll tell you what you want to know. Have you heard the name Black Mask before?”

Great. Because another villain was totally what Gotham needed. “I haven’t. Black Mask hired you to kill the Siren dealers?”

“He did. He’s looking for power.”

“Do you know what Black Mask’s real name is?” 

Slade met his gaze. “I do.”

Dick sighed. “Let me guess. It’ll cost me to find out? Are you expecting the same method of payment?”

“Only if it’s what you want.”

Dick knew he’d regret every minute of this tomorrow. “I want to see just how strong you are this time. Hold me against the wall. You had my legs over your shoulders, now you’ll feel them wrapped around your waist as you’re sliding into me.” He leaned in to seal their deal with a kiss, unsurprised when Slade moved him onto his lap. 

* * *

It should have ended there. Dick continued to make mistakes whenever Slade’s path crossed his. First, Dick found himself on his knees for Slade when he returned to Gotham. Then getting intimately acquainted with a hotel bed, wall, and shower. Reason and logic went out the window after that night. Were they dating? Hell no. Friends with benefits? No. Neither of them cared to put a label on what they had or plan the next encounter. It simply happened.

Dick flushed as he recalled how thoroughly Slade had fucked him in the backseat of his car last week. Slade was an _excellent_ lover – and responsible for Dick having to cover up after a night together. So far, their fling was still a secret. That was all that truly mattered. Dick knew he and Bruce would have yet another explosive fight if his secret was discovered. If only he could stop hungering for Bruce’s approval! No matter how angry he was with him, part of Dick always craved Bruce’s love and attention. 

Dick shifted into a more comfortable position on the rooftop. He was waiting for Penguin’s men to leave the bar with two Siren officials. If all went well, this stakeout would bring about the end of the Sirens’ weapons trafficking. For now, all Dick could do was wait. Think. 

The Bat Signal up above sent his thoughts to Jason. How was the new Robin on stakeouts? Did Bruce get short with him for getting distracted? Or did he save that for Dick? His fists clenched as the familiar hurt surfaced. Getting fired had been painful enough. Being replaced with a newer, younger boy added insult to injury. It still stung to see Jason in his uniform, but Dick was starting to come to terms with him. Jason deserved the chance to be something more than a street orphan. Dick could accept Jason as Robin. He couldn’t forgive Bruce though. Not yet. 

Dick didn’t need to hear footsteps to realize he wasn't alone. He sprang into a defensive stance. “Slade.” Dick didn’t drop his guard yet. Not when Slade was wearing his armor, even though no weapons were drawn and his helmet was tucked under his arm. “Working tonight?”

Slade shook his head. “I took myself off the job. I don’t work with sex traffickers, no matter how good the money is. Especially when the group sells children.”

Dick stiffened. “I wonder if your ex-employer is working with the Sirens. Tonight’s bust will end their weapons smuggling. I’m so close to destroying them.” 

Slade moved closer to pull Dick against his chest. “You have two fewer traffickers to deal with now. They were Russian mafia. Not Sirens.” He set the helmet down to rest both hands on Dick’s hips.

It pained him to think of two new corpses out there. Slade’s targets weren’t necessarily evil or beyond redemption. Dick pressed closer, kissing Slade to distract himself. He was so caught up in making out with his somewhat lover that he didn’t realize Bruce’s arrival until it was too late. 

“Deathstroke,” Bruce growled. “Get your hands off my son. Step away from him. Now!”

Dick’s heart soared when Bruce called him his son. That delight faded at the fury radiating from Bruce. Anger directed at both of them. Not just Slade. Dick kept his arms looped around Slade’s neck while strong hands remained firmly planted on his ass. He rolled his eyes behind his domino when Slade squeezed to spite Bruce. “We’re consenting adults, B. Slade isn’t making me do anything I don’t want to.”

“Slade Wilson is our enemy. Not to mention he’s old enough to be your father!” Bruce stalked forward. “Explain what’s going on.”

Slade dropped his hands from Dick’s body. “Your boy and I are fucking. What more is there to say?” He turned Dick’s chin up to kiss him then stepped back. “You know where to find me once you’re done with Daddy Bat, pretty bird.”

Bruce looked absolutely murderous. He made a move towards Slade then paused to stare down Dick, clearly torn between going after Slade or chewing out his son. “How long has this been going on?” 

“A little over a month.” Dick straightened his shoulders when he automatically slumped before Bruce’s anger. “Don't look at me like that! You’ve slept with our enemies too. Talia. Catwoman. You’ve always been too lenient with her.” He froze, stepping back as he considered the source of Bruce’s fury. “B, are you… are you mad that I was kissing Deathstroke or because you caught me with another man?” He hated how small and weak his voice came out. 

Bruce sighed. “I’m not homophobic, Dick. I never have been and never will be. I don’t care that Slade is a man. I care about _you_ getting involved with someone so dangerous! He’s a contract killer, a father with a son your age, and completely unsuited for you. You’re a hero. He isn’t. You need to break off this _relationship_ ,” Bruce made the word sound completely foul, “right now.”

Dick bristled. “I'm not a child anymore! You can’t keep giving me orders. I _know_ what Slade’s done in the past, what he continues to do. I’ll never approve of his occupation or look the other way because we’re involved. You do the same with Catwoman. If you can flirt and cozy up to her, then I can kiss Deathstroke on rooftops.” 

Bruce yanked him close. “That’s enough,” he snapped. “Selina is a thief, not a killer.”

“What about Talia?” Dick shot back. 

“She and I separated years ago. If I catch you with Slade again, I’m benching you and taking you off the Siren case.”

Dick knocked Bruce’s hand aside. “I’m not Robin anymore, B. I’m _Nightwing_. You can’t take away my cases or keep me from patrolling!”

Bruce opened his mouth to respond. He snapped it shut when the Bat Signal lit up the skies. Thank goodness for Jim Gordon’s excellent timing. “This conversation isn’t over.”

Dick turned back to the bar without responding. Bruce would soon realize the conversation truly was over.


End file.
